I
went to the mall a few days ago to buy a bathing suit for Tenzin. It
was so cheap! I looked at the tag. Made in China. Then I went to the
farmer's market and bought ten ears of corn. It was so expensive! The
farmer said, "Locally grown, costs more."

Today I went to make sure Tenzin was sleeping and not chasing geckos at naptime.

I
opened his door and found a delirious, somersaulting,
almost-four-year-old boy hard at work paper-clipping all of my credit,
debit, gift, frequent flier, health insurance, and drivers license
cards to assorted stuffed animals, blankets, and pieces of furniture.

It
was a post-modern installation piece: a room full of debt, a house of
cards. He had found my wallet and was tearing a hole in it. It was
expressly American, it was my Visa to enlightenment. It was, "Money
can't buy you love" and it was "Child paper-clipping your credit cards
to rocking horse? Priceless." It was rich. It was tragic.

It was so August 2008. When an ear of corn cost two dollars.

I
stood thinking about Georgia, the trampolinists, and the sixty-five
dollars it was going to take to fill up my gas tank tomorrow. I thought
about all the people with no gas tank to fill up. No corn to buy.

I thought about the interview Obama gave upon return from Hawaii.

When
asked what to do about all the unspeakable horrors going on in our
world, Barack said the most important thing we can do is talk about
them, and acknowledge, in a forthright way, they exist. We can't
pretend nothing is wrong. We need to be able to look, to allow, to let
down our defenses so that we can see. So that we can feel, and move
from there.

Which is what I think we all need to do right
about now. Not so much that we totally lose it, but just enough so we
don't totally lose it.

Things are not okay in the world, and
they haven't been for a very, very long time. It's not pretty, but it's
the truth. And we can't change what we won't look at, and we won't look
at what we think we can't change, which means we have to either look or set our hair on fire.

"These
Olympics are the coming out party for a disturbingly efficient way of
organizing society, one that China has perfected over the past three
decades. It is a potent hybrid of the most powerful political tools of
authoritarianism communism -- central planning, merciless repression,
constant surveillance -- harnessed to advance the goals of global
capitalism. Some call it "authoritarian capitalism," others "market
Stalinism," personally I prefer "McCommunism."

If I had been twittering while
watching the Opening Ceremony, instead of driving everyone in my house
crazy exclaiming over every little thing, this is how my twitter log
would read:

That's a lot of technology. That's a lot of
money. This ceremony is really long. This is like a super creative
military exhibition. The Americans are really rocking the Ralph Lauren.
Cheerleaders in white go-go boots, fifteen male athletes to every
female athlete? Thank goodness for Patsy Mink and Title IX.

How
can every country be represented except Tibet? What about the priceless
Buddhist teachings destroyed by Chinese military? My teacher's teacher
shot and killed? The Tibetans watching this and weeping? All the
Chinese dissidents being tortured at this moment? What about China's
rapidly developing relationship with Africa--taking oil, selling guns?

What's
up with George Bush looking at his watch? He probably doesn't have the
option of opting out of attendance. Perhaps because the US owes China
over 400 billion dollars. Or because our economy is based on cheap
Chinese imports. Or because America is 300 million citizens strong to
China's 1.3 billion. They can raise an army the size of our entire
nation and leave a billion civilians at home.

Did
they say that little boy went back to save his friends trapped in the
earthquake because it was his responsibility? Because he was a hall
guard? That little boy is a symbol, not just for China, but for
humanity. At every moment, we can choose to do the right thing. That's
our only hope. Except that...our only hope was just appropriated by
McCommunism.

I'm
a Buddhist because I grew up amongst Baptists, Jews, and
Goddess-worshipers, and none of them spoke the language of my
particular heart. I am a Buddhist because my parents, generously, gave
me the freedom to find my own spiritual path.

I'm a Buddhist
because for many years I was a seeker. And because I was a seeker, for
some time, books were my religion, my life.

I read so many books!
About the lives of women all over the world. About people fighting for
freedom. About people making beauty under unspeakable conditions. I
read Franz Fanon, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, T.S. Eliot, Bessie Head,
William Faulkner, Ayi Kwei Armah. I read Liberation Theology, French feminist theory...

I read about the artists I loved--Mark Rothko and Roy Decarava, Frida Kahlo and Seydou Keita, who took the photo above.

Buddhism's
teachings on interdependence, compassion, and the cultivation of
happiness rather than regret, were just what a mixed race,
multi-everything girl needed to hear to feel whole. Buddhism said the
fragmentation I felt was an illusion. My essential nature as a human
being had never been broken, never been stained. My thoughts about
myself were problematic.

But my thoughts could be changed.

There is more to say about this, but watching "Buddha's Warriors" on CNN last night, I couldn't help but think about CNN's "Black in America." There were no African-Americans in "Buddha's Warriors," and no Buddhists in "Black in America."

And yet there are many who have feet in both worlds, many who feel the idea of "two worlds" is, itself, an illusion.